Yeonjun finally agrees to meet with me. Over the past few days, he has been quite the little, mind my words, bi.tch. He doesn't answer any of my calls. When he sees my phone number, he ignores it. He doesn't reply to any of my text messages. Even when I try Sehun's phone, Yeonjun chooses not to respond to it. I'm too lazy to get the other guys involved, so to resolve this situation, I phoned his office. His secretary wasn't filling to connect me to him, but luckily, I said that if she didn't pass the message that I called, I would personally bomb his office. Obviously, she hung up on me, but then, I called again and this time, I was lucky enough that Yeonjun was passing by his secretary's office. I overheard him asking who it was. The secretary answered, "Some crazy lady called Leia."

"Give me the phone," I heard Yeonjun utter. Then, he greeted, "Hello?"

I knew I couldn't be mad at him because nothing good would come out of it; therefore, I breathed in and replied, "Hey. It's me, Leia. I've been calling, but--"

"I know," he told me. "I've been busy."

In my heart, I wanted to shout: "So busy with what? Can't even take a call and tell me not to call? Huh?" Instead, I stated, "You still should have answered your phone once. I know you're still mad at me--"

"I'm not mad at you," he abruptly corrected me.

"Then why . . . are you behaving so weirdly?" I wondered.

He gave me a sigh: "I'm really tired now, Leia. I don't want to talk about it."

I was about to argue that I wanted to talk about it, but with Yeonjun, I knew how stubborn he could be. Thus, I asked him, "Then when are you free to talk about it?"

That's pretty much how I get him out to meet me. I don't know why it's so hard nowadays. It used to be so simple. I'd give him a call and go, "Yo! You wanna hang out? I'm at a pretty good bubble tea place." On a whim, Yeonjun would agree, and even if he couldn't, he'd schedule another time for me. I sort of miss that easygoing feeling we had. I can't believe that I have to think what to say in front of Yeonjun these days. I feel so unlike myself and so tense. Even as I'm sitting here by myself at an Italian restaurant, waiting for Yeonjun to arrive, I feel uneasy. He's running late today, and that is quite unlike him. He's usually early or right on time. He is also the one that picks me up, yet today, I'm the one waiting for his arrival. 

I have already finished two glasses of warm water and visited the washroom twice. As I am about to take my first sip from the third glass of water, Yeonjun sprints into the restaurant. He is completely drenched from the rain, which has been spattering for the past few hours. Today is the start of a rainy week, and Yeonjun happens to be stupid enough not to bring an umbrella. Then again, he was never prepared with these little things. He'd rather buy an umbrella when it's actually raining. He likes to have less baggage in general, and that's why his car is super clean. His apartment, on the other hand, has a closet dedicated to objects that he bought due to necessity. Then, every year, he donates everything from that closet to a charity or asks the guys and me if I'd like some of his stuff. Now, usually I would lecture Yeonjun for being so wasteful or unprepared, but today, I don't say much. I just can't stop staring at him. 

Okay. I feel like he's some guy from a deodorant or razor commercial. His button-up shirt is completely transparent due to the rain, and I can even see the outline of his boxers from his pants. Glancing up, I see that his hair is flopped down, pushed behind his ears. He keeps wiping droplets of rain from his forehead with the back of his hand. As he settles in the seat across from me, I feel my cheeks burn a little. When he takes off his black blazer and places it behind his chair, I swallow a gulp down my throat. I've never seen the shape of his body so clearly. He is fit, really fit. His arm muscles are clear, and his chest is firm but not too firm. His collar bone protrudes out from his shirt, and bits of water drips down to his chest. 

Damn. I . . .have to stop staring.

I even catch Yeonjun furrowing his eyebrows together, making a serious frown at me. "Why . . . are you looking at me like that?" he ponders in a rather stern voice.

"N-n-n-nothing," I stutter and drink more water to cool myself down. I'm overreacting. It's just Yeonjun. It must be stupid Sehun's doing, saying all those things and making me think so dirtily. Perverting my mind. Argh.

What's worse is pretty much everything that Yeonjun does: the way he waves at the waitress to order his meal, the way he licks his slightly dried bottom lip, the way he rolls up his sleeves, the way he wipes water from his face with some napkins and reveals a bit of his chest in the process. I can't help but feel super nervous around him. My eyes are completely glued to his every movement. I'm becoming more and more like a stalker. Argh. This is so horrible. This is just so horrible. 

"Leia . . . seriously, what the heck is up with you?" Yeonjun grimaces at me again.

"N-nothing," I mumble and look at my own fingers.

Shaking his head, he sighs, "You're being really, really weird."

"I'm fine," I stress. "Really."

Once more, Yeonjun frowns at me, noting, "Well, I don't really believe you. Either way, just stop staring at me like a creep. It's really freaky, you know?"

"I'm not staring at you like a creep," I try to defend myself.

"Oh really?" Yeonjun confirms. "I'm pretty sure you were looking at my fingers and my crotch earlier on."

"No! I wasn't looking at your--"

"Just cut it out, and I'll forget about what happened," he interrupts while receiving his order from the waitress.

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I scream so loudly that everyone in the restaurant turns around to look at me: "Then, stop being so sexy!" 

Oh God. It's all because of Yeonjun that I burst out like that and that I seem like a desperate, hormonal lady. 

Yeonjun drops his fork onto the table with a bang, and his jaw is gaping open. "Wh-what'd you say?" he ogles at me quizzically and verifies.

I gulp down my whole glass of water and then wipe the excess water droplets off of my face. "Nothing," I confidently answer and mouth thank you to the waiter that delivers my meal. I quickly start munching on my sandwich just to calm myself down.

Raising an eyebrow at me, Yeonjun picks up his fork again and stabs it into the bowl of pasta. "You sure?" he asks. "Because I'm pretty sure I heard something about me being sexy."

"R-r-r-right," I pretend to act innocent and answer. "Y-y-y-y-you heard wrong."

"Then what did you say?"

I bite my lower lip before muttering, "I said . . . you . . . look like you want to be sexy."

Yeonjun curls his pasta with his fork and argues, "I'm still pretty certain that you told me to stop being so dam.n sexy." I don't answer because I'm not sure where to begin. Plus, whatever I say will make me jump into a bigger hole. I know, though, that being silent in this case isn't exactly helpful either. Oh God. Please just let me skip through this moment in time. I don't want to remember this. Because I don't reply, Yeonjun declares, "Either you seriously need to get some action or--"

"I'm not sexually repressed!" I holler. "I'm just . . ."


"It's just . . ." I look down and realize that either it's time to tell Yeonjun the truth or just lie my way through. I'm not very good at lying, and I'm bad at keeping track of my lies, so I blurt aloud, "It's just that Suho told me he liked me, but then Sehun said that I had to choose between you or Suho. And then, Sehun did this whole analysis based on Astrology, and I thought about our relationship. Now, I'm very confused. I mean, I really don't--"

Yeonjun, in a very calm manner, takes a bite from his pasta before interrupting, "Well that's good. Suho confessed to you. We're making progress. Just make sure that you get the info from him."

"That's not the point!" I tell him.

"Then . . . what is the point?" Yeonjun casually sips on his water while waiting for my response.

"Never mind," I murmur. "You're right. We are making progress, so that's good. It's just that . . . I don't want to hurt Suho in the end."

"Oh, so you really like him."

"He's a nice guy," I utter. "He doesn't deserve to be hurt."

"In any case, he will. You should have known when you first agreed to help me, and you should have known too not to fall for your enemy."

"I haven't fallen for him yet, okay?"

"Good. Then I don't see what's the problem with what you're doing."

"How can you be so . . . heartless? And I don't mean to judge you, but how can you use such a dirty method to win your competitor? Don't you have any dignity?" I bark at him.

"I don't care about the process, Leia," Yeonjun urges. "I only care about the results."

"But the process affects the results," I debate with him.

"And ultimately, you'll still get an answer."

I can't understand how Yeonjun can be like this. How can he just forget about everyone else that is involved in his situation? How can he just be so selfish? The more I think of it, the more frustrated I become. The Yeonjun I know wouldn't take advantage of people like that. He would feel remorse. He would be fair. He wouldn't use people at all. He'd even empathise with the weaker opponent; I remember how he always donated to the SPCA whenever a volunteer had a booth out on the streets. He said after volunteering there during high school, he could relate to each abandoned animal. He said it was better helping animals because humans had the ability to recover from major setbacks. If you cripple a creature, then they're severely impaired. Animals, he told me, can't voice their injustices, so it is better to help them. With such a kind heart, I can't comprehend how Yeonjun can be so cruel. That's why I yell at him: "W-w-w-with . . . that sort of attitude, everyone that's important to you is bound to leave you! What? After you use them, then you just throw them away. It's all about the results, right? Who cares if you hurt a few people's feelings?"

"Leia, calm down," he reminds me. "There's no need to be angry,and there's no need to be making a scene."

"See?" I scream. "That's the problem with you. You only care about yourself. You hardly care about others. It's always just about you, you, you."

"Say whatever you want, Leia. I don't care."

"Then, I don't care about you anymore!" I howl. "I give up. I'm tired of being the one that always gives in! I'm tired of thinking that it's okay when it's not. I'm sick of lying!"

"You're the one that wanted to lie."

"Enough," I state boldly and clearly. "Stop making excuses when you know the truth!"

"You're the one with the excuses."

Those lies . . . were meant to help Yeonjun and now, he says that? 

Within that second, I think I've made up my mind. The image of Yeonjun and me being together is nonexistent. It's like someone shredded a photograph into tiny, tiny pieces. I'm not sure if this is how heartache is supposed to feel like, but I think I feel more disappointed than angry. I guess I'm disappointed that it's not like what Sehun predicted or what I thought he'd be like. I believe I expected too much from him; this reminds me of those times when I fell in love with a dress at first sight, but after trying it on, I realized that it didn't fit me. In this case, I thought something might come about from this relationship and tried to make it work, yet I think we're not fit for each other. I don't think he truly understands me nor do I truly understand him.

Yeonjun, if I can't change you, then I'll leave you be. I honestly don't like changing others; it's easier to change yourself. In this case, I'm willing to change. I'm willing to go in a different direction because I'd rather try something new than try to repair something that's already too broken. 


Sehun and I go alcohol shopping. As soon as I get back home, Sehun suggests that we go stock up on our inventory and that he'd pay for half of it. It's like he can read my face completely. I'm pretty sure my expression is particularly obvious. There's probably a huge tag saying: "I need to drink. Now!" on my face somewhere. So, we end up buying six big bags of alcohol; there are vodka, beer, wine, champagne, whiskey, soju and fruit wine. To prep ourselves for a major drinking session, we make steaks together. It's more like I'm the one cooking while he's the one that'll be cleaning.

"You know," Sehun opens a fresh bag of chips and starts gobbling like a chicken, "I really thought it'd work out between you and Yeonjun." I continue mashing the potatoes in a bowl, and because I don't say anything in return, Sehun proceeds to add, "Like I thought you two would be perfect for each other. I'm sure this is just a little misunderstanding."

As I use all my force to smash the potatoes, I grunt, "It's not a misunderstanding. It's more like . . . I'm starting to see his true colours."

"As in?"

"His selfishness and cruelty."

"Oh . . . but he has never been like that to you," Sehun argues. Again, I don't reply, which is a cue for Sehun to say: "Oh . . . but he did treat you like that and you thought you were special." I shoot him a glare, causing him to immediately apologize, "Sorry. I didn't mean to be so blunt."

"It's okay," I utter. "I understand what you mean."

"Leia," Sehun states with a pair of despondent eyes, "I didn't mean to break your friendship up with Yeonjun. I really thought that--"

"Sehun," I cut him off and put aside the large spoon I have been using to squash my potatoes, "it's not your fault. It was just . . . time . . . I guess." I look him in the eye and explain, "Now that I think of it, the two of us have always been more than friends but less than lovers. And some day, you have to make a clear line, and today was the day."

"Aww, Leia," Sehun, who has been sitting in a tall stool at the counter, comes over and gives me a soft hug. "It's okay. You'll find someone better. You have that new guy, don't you? What's his name again?"

"It's Han Suho."

"Umm . . . as in . . . the Han Suho of Hana Cosmetics?" Sehun releases me, gawking at me with much surprise.

"Yeah . . ."

As soon as I reply, Sehun clings onto my arms and while shaking me back and forth, he hollers, "No! Not him!"

"But you already looked at his Astrological profile . . . and you said that--"

"Screw that! I've known him for a while, and he's no good!"

"What do you mean he's no good?"

"Do you know how many women he has played? Huh? In high school, he was most famous for sleeping with the prettiest girls at our school," Sehun clarifies. "He even had a virgin count."


"It was a contest among his group to see how many virgins he could deflower."

"That sounds . . . pretty silly and ridiculous," I grumble and fold my arms together.

"It is the truth after all."

"But he . . . seems so nice right now and so pure."

"It's a facade, Leia!" Sehun proclaims, waving his hands in the air. "He treats every lady properly. He's the King of wooing girls."

"Then, how come you said he was a stable guy? Huh? You even mentioned that he's the type that is looking for a long term committment."

"He probably gave you the wrong birthday and time."

"And why would he ever do that?"

"To stop me from actually reading his profile."

"Oh right. How stupid, Sehun. You're starting to become more and more like Yeonjun. Just plain ridiculous."

"Well . . .okay, maybe he has changed," Sehun admits. "I lost contact with him in university, so I wouldn't know what happened."

"I guess. . ."

Now please insert a ton of munching and crunching by yours truly, Sehun. There's no silence whenever there is Sehun. He is always eating, talking or humming some tune. Heck, he even talks in his sleep and sometimes sleep walks. After Sehun finishes a packet of 100 calorie cookies and cracks open a beer can, he decides to suggest, "Maybe you can date him a few more times and then see? Or perhaps, try to figure out who his friends are and ask them about him? Or if your'e very good, find his last ex."

I stick a corkscrew into the cork of a bottle of red wine as I mutter, "I think I'd take the first option. It's not like I can approach his friends directly."

"True," Sehun agrees. "You'll have to try to make him introduce his friends to you first. Lucky for you, Christmas is coming up and you know what that means?"

I blab without thinking, "Gifts? Turkey? Trees?"

"No!" Sehun hits his palm on the surface of the counter. "Parties and loads of sex!"

"Sex . . ."

"Obviously, you're going to spend an intimate night with him," Sehun mumbles under his breath. Because I take a while to react, Sehun almost falls off his seat. "Don't tell me that you're actually still a . . . I thought by now, you'd--"

"Yes, I'm still . . . that," I whisper rather quietly.

Sehun chokes on his beer and has to cough several times to recover. With huge eyes, he  walks over to me and grabs onto my shoulders, stating: "We . . . seriously . . . need to get you laid. Asap. I don't even care if Han Suho is the one that'll deflower you. At least that man has loads of experience that you won't be in much pain. I mean, if you think about his virgin expedition, that pretty much--"

"Can we not mention his past? I'd rather not wonder if he has some STD," I interrupt.

"I think you should actually get him tested, just in case," Sehun remarks rather seriously. "It'd suck if you got herpes. That thing doesn't go away, you know?"

I roll my eyes to utter, "Right. I'll be careful."

"Either way," Sehun says in between a sip of his beer, "our goal, this winter, is to get your cherry popped by Suho. Now that I think of it, your experience with him should be okay.  I remember overhearing from the girls that he was super good in bed and that he had a big--"

"Okay," I stop him from adding more. "I don't need all the details."

"Why sure you do," Sehun chimes. "You also need to get prepped."


"Yeah," he clarifies. "You know, like having super sexy lingerie, knowing how to do foreplay, where to touch, etc."

"I guess . . . I need to go read some books," I murmur while sulking in my seat. I can't believe sex is like another topic at school that I have to master. Great. Maybe, there are sex teachers out there to teach you the skills. Ugh . . . that sounds wrong already.

"Yeah . . . you probably should . . . do some research," Sehun mumbles in a hushed tone. 

Then, Sehun and I keep drinking. We drink, make vulgar jokes, curse, laugh at whatever and tell some stupid stories about each other. I haven't felt this relaxed in a long time. All that tension between Yeonjun and me has stressed me out. I don't need that unnecessary stress. I have enough coming from work. I wonder why Yeonjun and I can't just take things lightly? Why do we always have to fight and then make up some other time? And when we're not fighting, we are bickering supposedly playfully. It's fun to watch, but it's not fun to be in every day. I don't need that drama. I'm actually kind of sick of it now, so this break is good. Detox is healthy.

And I fall asleep with too much alcohol swirling throughout my body. After a good night's sleep, I will awaken as a new Leia. 



My head.

My head.

My head.

Someone just shoot me please. It hurts. It hurts. It fu.cking hurts.

I roll over to the other side and my arm whacks something, no, someone. Immediately, I get up and sit on my bed cross legged. I take a look to my right, and there is a half-naked or naked man beside me. Leaning to his side, I take a peek at his face. 


It's just Sehun.

Huh? Sehun? Naked? On my bed? Don't tell me that we . .  .

I lift the blanket off of my body and instantly breathe a sigh of relief. I'm fully clothed. I'm just wearing what I wore yesterday outside. If that's the case, then why did he . . . take off his clothes? 

Suddenly, he turns over to my side and rubs his eyes. "So . . . noisy," he complains, "and . . . early."

I take a look at my clock that's on the table beside my bed. "It's 10 am," I utter. "Not early at all." 

Sehun ignores me and instead, takes over the whole blanket. He places it over his face, hiding his whole body. I know I have to get this man off of my lovely bed, so I tug his blanket forcefully off of my bed. "Get up!" I bellow. "It's already 10 am!"

"J-j-just ten more minutes," he begs.

"If you don't get up, I'm going to literally kick you off of my bed!" I threaten. Because he doesn't budge and I don't have time for this nonsense, I use my right foot and attempt to push him off my bed. 

"That t-t-t-tickles," he stammers and moves to the edge of the bed.

I kick once more, and this time, I accidentally kick too hard that Sehun does tumble off of my bed, landing on his back. Sadly, he isn't half-naked. He is fully nude, and this . . . is the first time I've ever seen a completely naked man's body in real life. "Ahh!" I shriek as I bury my face in my heads. "G-g-g-get changed!" I intuitively demand and hop off my bed to escape to the kitchen.

Unfortunately, Sehun and I head for the same direction and we crash into each other. Since I'm about to fall to my side, Sehun grabs my arm and usually, I'd let anyone safe me. However, in this case, I squeal and struggle to get away from this naked man. This just makes everything worse for I slip and ultimately make Sehun come down with me. He doesn't fall on me, luckily, but he does hover over me like he's doing a push up. 

"Sorry," he mutters. Then, I hear that noise when he's about to sneeze. He always gives a prelude before actually sneezing. 

"Oh no!" I shout and try to roll rapidly to my side. Because his arm is blocking my way, I have to go lower and go through the space between his arm and body. I'm not fast enough though, so he lands on me as he sneezes and covers it with one of his hands. 

Oh . . . my  . . . fu.cking . . . God.

I think I feel something warm pressing against the side of my butt, and I think . . . it's . . . getting warmer and . . . harder.

"Oh my God!" I shriek in a panic. "You're getting a hard on!"

Before Sehun can even do anything about this situation, I hear the doorbell ringing. I'm thinking who can be here at this time? This is awful. It can't be Yeonjun. We're fighting. Who else has unlimited access to this building? I think of the impossible, but it is highly possible. My . . . own . . . mother. But isn't she on a vacation in Italy with her friends?

Crap. Whatever. I must do something. I first get away from him and then bellow, "Go get changed and . . . stay in my room! Don't fu.cking come out!"

"Okay. Okay," Sehun agrees wholeheartedly.

Instantly, I shut my bedroom door and dash for the entrance. Shoot. I'm probably a mess, so I turn to one of my bathrooms. I splash some water on my face, comb through my hair with my fingers like Little Mermaid and gulp some tap water down hoping that it'll kill off my bad breath. All this happens while the doorbell keeps ringing and ringing, hammering away at my head. Ugh.

As soon as I unlock and open the door, I realize that my guess is right. It's my mother. She has her hands full with shopping bags. She is probably here to deliver gifts and souvenirs to me. She always likes to buy a lot of things on vacation and then give them to me afterwards. That's a good thing for me, but now, I'm dreading it. 

"Darling!" My mother embraces me while greeting enthusiastically. "You've . . . gotten . . . a bit skinnier?"

I let go, hoping that she won't smell my disgusting alcohol scent. "Oh . . . that's good," I mumble.

"What's wrong?" she wonders and makes a pouted face. "Something bothering our little booboo?"

"Umm . . . no," I lie. "I'm just tired."

"Oh," she sighs and strolls to my kitchen to toss her bags on my counter. "I was hoping that you'd get excited about your new goodies! I bought a lot of clothes for you!"

"Thanks," I utter. "Would you like something to drink then?" I ask while wandering to the fridge. As soon as I open it, I realize that there's nothing to drink but alcohol. Crap. I bought too much last night. 

Fortunately, my mother says, "Water would be fine."

"Oh okay." I grab a mug from the cupboard, wash the cup and pour some water from the electric boiler into it. "Here you go," I offer it to my mother who is now sitting in a stool. 

"Thanks," she answers and soon, sips on her drink. "So . . ." she leans forward, asking, "Any interesting news to share?"

Argh . . . well right now, what is going on is interesting news, but I'd rather not tell her that a guy friend stayed over night. My mom would think that I'm in a relationship with that guy. Actually, whichever guy she sees me with, she says I should date him. I think she's just desperate for me to get married and have babies. She always likes to comment on how cute her friends' grandchildren are. Now, imagine her discovering that Sehun is here. Oh my Lord.

"Not much," I utter.

"Oh really?" she eyes me quizzically before pointing her finger at the stacks of boxes in the living room. "Then what are those?" she inquires.

"Aha." I laugh nervously. "Th-th-that's just some stuff that my friend is storing here . . . for now."

"Oh. That's a lot," my mother remarks. "Is someone moving in with you?" she abruptly pops the question.

"Oh no!" I refute. "Of course not! I'd never let anyone move in with me." 

Argh. Stupid Sehun has to leave soon. At this rate, everyone will think we're room mates. Argh.

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," I scoff but that confident scoff turns into an awful frown because I see the doorknob slowly turning. To my horror, Sehun is peeking through the crack of my bedroom door. He opens the door quietly and gently so that I can see his entire body. He is in a towel, half naked. I'm about to scream at him, but then I see him pointing at my couch.

His clothes are there.!

"What's wrong, Leia?" My mother now ponders. "You look like you saw a ghost."

"Oh." I chuckle awkwardly. "I just . . . saw a spider."

"And you didn't scream?"

"Well, I was too stunned to scream."

"Where was it?" My mother shifts her head and boom, she sees stupid Sehun standing there. "Wh-wh-wh-who is that?" My mother directs her finger at Sehun. 

Sehun, that imbecile, doesn't hide. Instead, he steps out and greets himself in that half-naked attire. "Hello," he announces. "I'm Sehun. Nice to meet you."

My mother directs her attention at me, and I know I'm in huge trouble. She wants an explanation right now, and I'm not sure where to begin. All the signs indicate that Sehun is living with me and that Sehun is my boyfriend. This is not good. This is not good at all! What am I supposed to say? What do I do? 


My head hurts.

Can I just faint here?